


Something New/Something Blue

by PanchitaRoyal



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-19 11:57:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17001231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PanchitaRoyal/pseuds/PanchitaRoyal
Summary: When Manon is asked to be a part of Elide’s wedding party, she doesn't realize how torturous the entire event will be for her. Forced to smile, wear a dress and heels…Manon is not very happy about being there. Of course, Dorian would not miss this for anything and takes the opportunity to get Manon to admit certain things. And why does Aelin insist Manon date Fenrys?! Wedding bells are ringing!





	Something New/Something Blue

**Author's Note:**

> Please note this is set AFTER KoA and might contain spoilers. It also has mature sexual content. Enjoy!

Manon felt ridiculous. How could she have allowed for this to happen? It was a moment of weakness, and now she was paying the price for it.

  
“Don’t forget to smile!” Elide quipped, dressed in her wedding gown, veil covering her face. The only comfort to all of it was that at least Lysandra would walk in first, the queen of Terrasen already standing by the alter as the ‘matron’ of honor. Manon had insisted she didn’t want to walk down the aisle as one of the bride’s maids, and had questioned why Aelin didn’t have to do so as well. Apparently, since she was married, she couldn’t be a maid but the matron, and thus she could already be at the altar.

  
“None of us are maidens.” Manon had pointed out the obvious, much to Lysandra’s and Aelin’s amusement.

  
“True…but you’re not married and Lysandra isn’t either, not yet.” Elide had insisted.

  
“If I were married, I could get out of this?” Manon asked in turn, considering the possibilities…

  
They’d all laughed, but Manon found no humor in it.

  
Anyways…now she stood, holding flowers and wearing a dusty rose dress. Her hair had been pulled halfway up to fall in soft waves and decorated with matching flowers. And she was wearing heels.

  
Lysandra made her way down to the altar and Manon could see as everyone awed and oohed as the Lady of Caraverre went by. Her hair had been fashioned much the same as Manon’s, her dress the same color though it didn’t fall off the shoulder as hers did. Soon, it was her turn to walk down the aisle, and Manon did so with as much dignity as she could. There was a sudden chill in the air, and she could see as the invitees all shifted in wonderment. Something even broke in the distance…a vase, and the queen of Terrasen arched an annoyed brow.

  
At least the groom couldn’t be bothered with her entrance, as the fae’s gaze was on one person and one person only. Manon took her place next to Lysandra and waited for Elide to make her grand entrance. She looked lovely, and even Manon couldn’t resist the smile that grazed her lips as her friend walked down the aisle, escorted by Aedion. Lorcan’s other two grooms’ men were already standing next to him; Rowan and Fenrys. Initially, Elide had suggested for Fenrys to walk down the aisle with Manon, but one fine arch of her brow had her decided against it.

  
At the appropriate time, Manon stepped in and took Elide’s bouquet of roses from her so she could hold her groom’s hands. This had also irked Manon, but Lysandra had explained this made her the maid of honor and that it she should be happy for it. Manon decided not to argue against the useless protocols and was efficient as she held on to the two bouquets. At some point, her stare did linger to the crowed of friends and family, and dignitaries from other kingdoms…and found a rather familiar pair of sapphire eyes. The King of Adarlan smirked before he softly inclined his head just so as if to say hello before he mouths the word ‘witchling’. Manon arched a brow, and despite her better efforts, she couldn’t suppress the small uplift of her lips.

* * *

  
Dorian almost hadn’t accepted the invitation to the wedding.

  
But he’d met with Aelin in Meah not a month ago to go over some aspects of their new trade agreements and she’d suggested that Manon would be part of the wedding party.

  
_“Elide has this whole idea of how she wants to pair up the bride’s maids with the groom’s men. I think Manon and Fenrys make a ridiculously attractive couple. I can almost gag with how pretty they’ll look….” She went on, not even paying attention to the documents they’d come to review together. Dorian simply arched a brow, knowing she meant to goad him into revealing his feelings about it._

  
_“I’ve been very busy trying to rebuild my kingdom, as has she.” He hoped this was enough to quash her curiosity._

  
_“She hasn’t come by?” Aelin asked, not bothering to look uninterested as she leaned forward on the table, bending an elbow so she could prop her chin on her hand._

  
_“She came by once. To check on the wyverns…and she flew by Ritfhold. But only overnight.” Dorian admitted, unsure why he was sharing this in the first place. Aelin smiled knowingly, with that ever-present twinkle in her eyes and Dorian had to resist the urge to roll his eyes._

  
_“She’ll come around. But, if I were you, I’d be at that wedding.” She finished by saying before she turned back to the documents they came to inspect._

  
And so when Manon walked into the grand hall where the ceremony was to take place, Dorian was not yet seated as he’d arrived late. But just one look at the High Queen of the Witch Kingdom had Dorian’s magic roiling within him…first chilling the temperature in the room and then sending a phantom wind which knocked over a decorative vase. He’d walked away from it as silently as possible before taking his seat, his eyes never adverting from Manon.

  
As soon as the ceremony was over with, they were led into a large room already fitted with long tables and chairs, all of them decorated in the same floral arrangements as the grand hall. There would be plenty of food and the music would begin very soon.

  
The wedding party stood to the side and so all attendees could go over to greet and say their congratulations to the bride and groom. Dorian waited his turn behind one of the Lords of Terrasen, all the while he tried not to search for a certain witch wearing pink. Manon looked exquisite and Dorian noted he wasn’t the only man or woman to think so.

  
Dorian greeted Lord Lochan first, gripping his hand tightly.

  
“You are one lucky male.” Dorian said with a genuine smile. There were no shadows dancing around the fae as he emanated nothing but pure happiness. He nodded his thanks and Dorian then turned to the beautiful bride. Elide’s vail had been pulled back so he could see her beautiful face smiling from ear to ear.

  
“Lady Lochan. Congratulations.” Dorian leaned in and kissed the bride on the cheek before receiving a warm hug from her.

  
“How’s Yrene?” She was quick to ask, the smile never leaving her face.

  
“About to pop any day now. She was sorry she couldn’t make it.” He winked at her.

  
“Of course, we understand. Thank you for coming, your Majesty.” She added.

  
“I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” Dorian stated with a smirk before continuing down the line to greet Aelin next.

  
“I told you it’d be worth it.” She whispered in his ear as they hugged, giving him a knowing smile.

  
“We’ll see.” Was all he said before he nodded his salutation to Rowan before their hands locked in greeting. Lysandra and Aedion were next, and he paused a moment to kiss and hug Lysandra before offering a pat to Aedion.

  
“I hear you’re next.” Dorian winked at the general, flashing his usual amused smile.

  
“Ah yes. I will be officially off the market.” Aedion offered a grin as his arm wound around Lysandra. The shapeshifter grinned up at her fiancé before her stare turned to Dorian.

  
“Wedding bells are ringing. I wonder who’ll be next after us.” Her eyes flashed with amusement as Aedion chuckled next to her.  
“If it were up to my mother, it’d be me. She keeps going on and on about heirs.” Dorian offered before continuing down the line. Fenrys was next, and he only nodded to him in greeting.

  
“Fenrys. Looking good.” Dorian flashed a grin a the pretty male, who glanced to the woman stoically standing next to him.

  
“Do you want to trade places? I’m sure my wedding date much rather have you next to her.” Fenrys grinned, flashing his elongated canines, knowing fully well he was currently receiving a deathly glare from Manon.

  
“I am not your date.” She clarified before her bright, golden eyes fell to him. Dorian resisted the urge to gulp before he casually leaned in to kiss her on the cheek in greeting. She stiffened, but didn’t pull away.

  
“You look…ravishing.” Dorian settled for saying in greeting next to her ear. Fenrys snorted next to him, but Dorian ignored him as he pulled away so his eyes could settle on the witch queen.

  
“Do I?” She asked, tilting her head slightly to the side. A half smirk marking her lips.

  
“I see you’re busy now. But I’ll see you later?” He said-slash-asked, the question hanging in the air, the invitation clear. Manon’s features didn’t change but she nodded once.

  
And that was all the indication Dorian needed.

* * *

  
Manon hated that she needed to still participate of the ridiculous wedding customs for a while longer. She itched to be out of the damn dress, and now that she’d scented the King of Adarlan, she knew exactly how she wanted her dress removed. Part of her disliked the thrill which ran through her body as he’d approached her…invading her personal space with a kiss on her cheek. Moreover, with so many fae’s nearby, she knew they all heard their exchange.

  
The queen of Terrasen kept giving her knowing glances or snorts, and Manon had to take a deep breath each time as to keep her iron nails in their place.

  
“I’m just saying. Fenrys is also an immortal. And just as pretty if not prettier than Dorian. He might not have a crown or kingdom, but he has other redeeming qualities about him.” Aelin insisted as they sat on the long table, getting ready to see the newlyweds first dance. The men sat to the left of the groom’s now empty chair, and the ladies to the right. Somehow, Manon had ended up between Aelin and Lysandra.

  
“Aelin, she’s not interested in Fenrys.” Lysandra sounded as annoyed as Manon felt, and she was secretly thankful to her for saying so.

  
“I don’t see how anyone would not be interested in Fenrys.” Manon knew the queen meant to goad her, but she had the audacity to sound incredulous at Manon’s lack of interest in the fae male.

  
“Some friend you are to the King of Adarlan.” Manon couldn’t help commenting, her eyes braced forward as she watched the large fae male lead Elide in dance. He was much more graceful than she would have expected…

  
“Well, I wasn’t aware you two were serious. I’m just simply looking out for all members of my court.” Aelin sounded offended now…

  
“Aelin, it’s none of your business.” Lysandra insisted before clapping as the first dance was over with. Aelin joined in the clapping before she leaned over Manon to ‘whisper’ to the shapeshifter.

  
“Look. If Dorian and Manon were to be serious…don’t you think they’ll have the prettiest children? Rowan and I wouldn’t have a chance.”  
Lysandra snorted, unable to keep her laughter at bay.

  
“Aelin! You are impossible. Besides, Fenrys is a very pretty male.”

  
“The prettiest!” Aelin exclaimed. Fenrys cleared his throat from down the table, and Aedion couldn’t quite hide his grin as he pretended to be looking towards the bride and groom. Rowan had gotten up and requested to dance with Elide, which Lorcan allowed with a nod. Aelin got up then, and moved over to Lorcan so she could dance with him as well, whispering something in his ear that made him blanche.

  
“We don’t have to dance with the groom, do we?” Manon asked Lysandra, unsure of this protocol.

  
“Well…I will be. It’s kind of expected.” She explained but did have the decency to look sorry about it.

  
Lysandra and Aedion stood up next and went to dance with the bride and groom. Aelin and Rowan turned to each other and began dancing. Manon frowned and braved a glance over at Fenrys, who smirked knowingly.

  
“Come on, witch. Let’s get this over with.” Fenrys said as he stood from the table, waiting for her to do so as well. With utter reluctance, Manon allowed the male to guide her to the dance floor until they were close enough to interject Lysandra and Lorcan, and Elide and Aedion respectively. Fenrys was swift in stealing the bride away from the general, but Lysandra had the decency of stopping altogether before extending her hand to Manon.

  
Manon and Lorcan stared at each other, unblinking.

  
“Just think of it as a sort of battle…” Lysandra whispered in her ear before shoving her forward. It was awkward. Especially as Lorcan’s hand came around to the small of her back. Manon’s nose flared but she reminded herself of her position.

  
She was Manon Blackbeak Crochan, High Queen of the Witch Kingdom. She was the wing leader, heir to the Blackbeak clan, last Crochan queen…

  
“Thank you for doing this for Elide. It really means a lot to her.” The fae male spoke with sincerity, breaking the uncomfortable silence as he led her in dance.

  
“She’s an Ironteeth…” Manon began, but then thought better of what she truly wanted to say “… and my friend.” Manon conceded as the reason for putting herself in such a terrible position. War had been preferable to this. Clearly, she wouldn’t do this for just any person.

  
“Like I said. Thank you.” And he offered her a smile. Manon nodded, accepting his gratitude. As the song ended, Lorcan nodded to her before unexpectedly spinning her around so she crashed into the waiting arms of the King of Adarlan.

* * *

  
Dorian was there, stepping in as Lorcan spun her in his direction. He gave the fae a thankful grin before one arm came around her lower back while the other held out her hand.

  
“You lot are incorrigible.” She bristled but didn’t step away from him nor fought as he guided her in dance.

  
“I just couldn’t resist. Besides…did you really want to dance with Fenrys?” He asked, keeping the smirk on his face knowing it would irritate her further. Manon considered his question with an arch of her brow and conceded her response as she looked away from him.

  
“I didn’t think so.” He murmured in her ear, pulling her closer to his chest. The fragrance of her invaded his senses then, and he had the sudden urge to be somewhere else…far away, with her.

  
“Are you almost done with your bridesmaid duties?” He asked, knowing his voice to lower with the promise of what would await her when she was done.  
“I think I have one more duty to perform and then I will allow you to get me out of this retched dress.”

  
Dorian knew he thread on dangerous ground but he couldn’t help as his hand slipped lower down her back, almost to her rear end. Manon growled softly, and Dorian noticed as a couple of pointy eared heads turned towards them.

  
“My apologies, your Majesty.” Dorian purred in her ear before spinning her to the rhythm of the music.

  
As soon as the song ended, Manon was called away to the wedding table and Dorian was left to stand back with the rest of the invitees. An unknown fae approached him then, with dark hair and eyes, and curiously angled his head to the side, in both greeting and appraisal.

  
“You’re the King of Adarlan.” He said in way of greeting, making Dorian turn to face him fully.

  
“Yes. And you are?” He asked, failing to recall the fae male in any of his interactions during the war. Was he also in Orynch?

  
“Vaughan.” He answered simply. As though that explained everything.

  
“I take it you’re from the groom’s side.” Dorian smirked pointedly at the elongated ears. The male nodded briskly before turning to the wedding party.

  
“I have yet to decide whether I want to stay here or not. It’s an interesting…court.” He finished, his eyes traveling to Aelin, Rowan and the rest.

  
“It’s a really good-looking court, too.” Dorian offered with amusement, but his eyes settled on a certain white-haired witch.

  
“She’s not part of the court, is she?” Vaughan had apparently followed his line of sight and openly assessed Manon.

  
“No. She’s the High Queen of the Witch Kingdome, of the Western Waste.” Dorian clarified.

  
“I heard she’s allied with Adarlan.” A simple comment he knew held a different meaning.

  
“Indeed.” Dorian’s lips curled into a smile, and it wasn’t a pleasant one.

  
The fae male huffed a chuckle before taking a drink to his lips.

  
“For a human, you certainly have a flare for danger. Beautiful danger. But then again, I hear you are quite powerful in your magic. Perhaps I-” He didn’t finish the sentence as Dorian’s raw magic roared at the fae, pinning him in place.

  
“What are you getting at?” Dorian questioned, rounding on the male.

  
Vaughan lifted an amused brow before nodding in understanding to Dorian, backing down.

  
“I’m just interested in how this all works. How fae and humans and witches all come together…” He gestured towards Lorcan and Elide, his brows narrowing just so.

  
“It seems too good to be true.” He finished, and Dorian could understand the weight of the fae’s doubt. What was he to be in this court? What did he bring to the table? Dorian remembered having similar thoughts not long ago.

  
“It certainly isn’t conventional, but if Aelin gave you a place in her court, you should see it for what it is.” Dorian said as he stared into the fae’s dark gaze.  
“And what’s that?”

  
“An opportunity to be a part of something that truly matters. An opportunity that will not present itself ever again.” Dorian slapped his hand on the male’s shoulder before stepping away, smirking as he could sense the fae suck in a breath, but he didn’t say anything nor did he go after him. However, a couple of heads with pointed ears glanced at his direction again, as well as a certain white-haired witch.

* * *

  
Manon’s last duty consisted of her standing in the middle of the grand room, waiting for Elide to throw her bouquet at a crowed of eligible, unmarried women.  
“You will not throw it in my direction.” Manon had ordered Elide, but the Lady of Perrinth seemed to have other ideas in mind.

  
Of course, the bouquet was thrown in her direction, and as Manon didn’t want anything to do with it, she didn’t step forward to catch it. It smacked her right on the face, and a sudden hush fell over the entire room. Manon sighed audibly before bending down to grab the now ruffled bouquet and an eruption of applause ensued.

  
Manon handed the bouquet to the shapeshifter next to her and ignored the smiles and smirks aimed at her.  
“Manon!” Elide stopped her as she’d turned to leave and hugged her. As they pulled apart, Manon could see the silver lining Elide’s eyes and the happiness that radiated from her.

  
“Thank you…” She said, and Manon sighed loudly before rolling her eyes and offering a smile. A true smile…because she couldn’t deny being happy for her friend. And deep down inside, Manon was glad to have been a part of Elide’s happiness today.

* * *

  
Finally, Manon walked away from the wedding party, after hugging Elide and ignoring the rest of the Terrasen court. Dorian didn’t immediately go to her, but instead stalked after her, trailing as she made her way through the crowded room as many danced or lingered around, nursing drinks.

  
Almost to the door, Manon was stopped by the dark haired fae male from earlier, as he leaned into her and whispered something in her ear. Manon smirked and her iron nails were out and held up as though to show the fae her manicure. They retracted soon after and so Dorian decided to step out of the shadows and casually stroll towards her.

  
“…if you ever tire of your human king.” Dorian only caught the last of Vaughan’s words, but he could tell exactly how the sentence started.

  
Manon took a deep breath; nose flaring and he could sense as she angled herself for an attack. A predator marking her prey. Her focus shifted to him then, having caught his approach through her peripheral vision, and surprisingly, she seemed to relax. The smirk on her face was not one he wanted to ever receive, though…

  
“Speaking of which.” Her voice was almost a purr and Dorian smirked jollily as he casually and, with as much swagger as possible, brought his hand around Manon’s shoulder and led her away towards the door, only offering a curt nod to Vaughan. Thankfully, Manon didn’t protest at his somewhat possessive touch, not even after they were out of fae hearing range.

  
“For the sake of all of Erilea…you’ll have to stop wearing dresses.” Dorian snorted in amusement, finally letting go of her shoulder as they rounded a corner. As soon as they did, Dorian used his phantom hands to push Manon against the wall before stepping right up to her so their lips were only inches apart.

  
“Your room or mine?” He asked, voice near-guttural as his eyes roamed down her face, to her exposed neck, then up again to her lips, with a silent promise to devour her…

  
Her bright, golden eyes were unreadable to him, as she stared at him…seemingly undecided. He could sense her breathing changed, becoming ragged at his proximity, and yet she made no move on countering the restraint on her hands. He let go of his phantom hands and took a step back, feeling slightly deflated but not entirely deterred.

  
“You rather have a pretty, fae male get you out of your dress?” He asked with as much casualness as he could muster, smirking just so to cover the hurt that would certainly ensue if she were to answer yes.

  
Manon smirked, cocking her head to the side as she took a step forward, closing the gap between them again. With one quick flick, an iron nail had pocked him just under his chin, drawing blood…she took her time as she brought her elongated nail to her plumb lips, her tongue flickering out to taste the warm liquid.

  
“Mmm.” She seemed to savor in it before she turned from him, heading down the hall and further away from the party.

  
“My room is this way.” She said, and Dorian didn’t delay in catching up to her, his blood boiling with desire for her.

* * *

  
The fae male had been toying with her, and yet she couldn’t help as his words reverberated through her. Her…thing…with the King of Adarlan was no secret. And yet, the fae male seemed to insinuate it was just a passing distraction that would soon dissipate. It had made her angry, especially as he had the nerve of offering himself once she ‘tired’ of the king.

  
And then, there he was, with his casual smugness and beady sapphire eyes…

  
Would she tire of him?

  
Somehow, Manon didn’t think so, as she led him down to her temporary room within the stronghold. He stalked her footsteps but let her lead, his hands in his pockets as though taking a casual stroll with an immortal witch was of no consequence.

  
As soon as they were through the doors of the anteroom of her temporary bedroom, the king pounced. His lips found hers, his hands bracing her waist before effortlessly picking her up and planting her none too gently on the desk just beyond the living space. A phantom wind closed and locked the door.  
Manon could barely find her bearings as Dorian devoured her lips, his tongue assaulting hers in want, his hands creeping up her dress, her legs and thighs, up…up. He puled back from their kiss but not his hands.

  
“You’re not wearing underwear.” It wasn’t a question as his hands could feel the answer as his fingers paused right above her very core. Manon didn’t have time to respond as he moved in on her again, but this time his lips and tongue trailed kissed down her neck just as his hands pulled on the low sleeves of her dress until her breasts were exposed to the air. His hands found her breast first, drawing circles and lightly pinching her peaked flesh, causing the first moan from her. His mouth soon followed and Manon dug her hands into the king’s hair, holding back a whimper as he savored her.

  
“I expected you at Rifthold a lot more, witchling.” He almost growled against her skin, and Manon wasn’t sure why he even bothered with words. He followed the same assault on her other breast, drawing another moan from Manon. Her core was molten and Manon needed the king inside her, to end her mounting agony, so her hands found his buckle and then the buttons of his pants and made quick work of them.

  
Dorian understood the silent demand and smirked as he pushed his pants and underpants down, letting them pool at his feet as he shoved her skirt of her dress up, exposing her to him. Manon could see how ready he was for her, and bit her lower lip in anticipation. He slid her forward so her bare bottom was right to the edge of the desk before he hefted her legs up and plunged himself inside of her.

  
Manon didn’t even bother in railing back her moan. She was beyond the point of caring to pretend…

* * *

  
Dorian had missed the warm feel of her around him, how perfect they fit together as though they were two pieces of the same puzzle. He almost stopped thrusting just to revel in the feel of her warmth, but Manon had locked her legs around his waist in demand…wanting and needing him deeper, faster…harder. And so he gave her what she wanted until he was sure the desk would break from it.

  
Manon dug her nails, her normal nails, on his shoulder and he knew she was about to find her release. He hooked and arm around her back, pressing down as he thrusts and Manon’s head rolled back as she cried out in pleasure. He repeated his movements again until he knew she was done with her first climax, but didn’t pull out of her as he picked her up and moved her towards the bedroom itself, which proved treacherous as his pants were still at his ankles. He managed to dump her on the bed before finally kicking off his boots and pants, followed by his vest and shirt.

  
Manon’s dusty rose dress was next, carelessly discarded on the floor as he finally joined her on the bed. She pressed a hand to his chest, silently demanding he lay down on his back so she could ride him. Dorian smirked and did as instructed of him, but he didn’t keep his hands to himself as he framed her waist, helping Manon move from atop of him, reveling in her movements…how she swayed and moved, her hands scratching down his forearms. He groaned, so close to reaching his own ecstasy….

  
And then their eyes locked. Manon almost faltered in her movements, slowing for a second before bending down, kissing him. Dorian felt a shutter down his spine, feeling the intensity of the kiss down to his toes, somehow knowing it meant more than just a lustful kiss. He sat up, winding his arms around her lower back, their kiss never breaking as her legs wrapped around his waist. Dorian could feel Manon’s soft skin pebbling beneath him, her breathing as ragged as his own. They came together, tumbling into oblivion, Manon’s head rolling back, her moon-white hair spilling down her back as Dorian hugged her to him, feeling as his heart skipped a beat, a shiver running down his entire body.

  
They collapsed onto the bed together, still panting, and fell asleep not long after.

* * *

  
Dorian opened his eyes to find bright, golden eyes staring back at him. They lay close together, both sharing the same pillow, but barely touching.  
“Good morning, witchling.” Dorian murmured, smirking as he stared at her through half drawn eyes. She looked…annoyed.  
“What’s wrong?” He asked before he could think better of it.

  
“I don’t recall you being such a terrible sleeper.” She complained.

  
“How so?” He questioned, eyeing the High Queen with amusement. She didn’t response, only raising a brow.

  
“Did I try to cuddle you in my sleep? My apologies.” Dorian half smirked half laughed, realizing this was probably the case.

  
“Yes, that too.” Too? So there was something else he did? Maybe he hugged all the blankets? She didn’t offer any further comments as she gracefully stood from bed, naked as the day she was born, and made her way into the washroom.

  
“There’s a brunch I must attend.” She explained as she disappeared into the washroom.

  
Dorian felt as though he’d been dismissed by the queen of witches, but he didn’t leave, he didn’t even move from the bed and instead, patiently waited for her return.

* * *

  
Manon was not expecting the King of Adarlan to still be lazing in bed when she stepped out of the wash chamber.

  
“What do you want?” She asked, unmoored by his presence as she set about dressing. He didn’t answer her for several seconds as he followed her movements around the room, a curl tugging his lips upwards.

  
“Like I said yesterday…I expected to see more of you in Rifthold.” He said, and Manon had to think long and hard as to when he’d told her this. Oh yes, as he took her on the desk…

  
“I’ve been busy rebuilding the Witch Kingdom, princeling.” She stated, matter of fact as she took her undergarments from the travel bag she’d brought, slipping them on before doing the same with her leather riding parts.

  
“And when do you plan to come around again?” He pressed on the subject, bringing his hands behind his head, elbows bent and exposing his naked chest further to her. Manon tilted her head slightly to the side, somewhat tempted by the naked king on her bed. In reality, he hadn’t been a terrible sleeper next to her, though his arm wound around her more than once throughout the night. It was the look of pure contentment which had kept her up, and Manon couldn’t seem to look away from the sleeping king, even as the hours weaned.

  
“Soon.” She finally answered as she picked up a white shirt discarded on the floor. She slipped it on and tucked it inside her pants. Next came her leather jacket, which she didn’t bother to button as she headed for the door.

  
“How soon?” The door which led to the living room area closed before she reached it. By a phantom wind. Manon turned around, brows narrowed.

  
“What do you want?” She asked through clenched teeth, although she fully knew what Dorian wanted…it was exactly what she wanted.

  
The King of Adarlan didn’t as much as bat an eye, still naked on the bed with just a blanket carelessly tossed over his waist. Manon had to look away or she might have been tempted to strip of her clothing and join him. The Mother Above knew she wasn’t anywhere near sated.

  
“You plan to keep me in here if I don’t answer?” She asked, and a part of her hoped he would keep her in there…

  
“How soon?” He repeated his question, his sapphire eyes dancing in triumph, especially as she began to breath heavy. Phantom hands began creeping up the side of her legs, stopping at her waist as though framing her hips.

  
“Two weeks.” Manon conceded and then ignored her plans to leave the room altogether as she joined the King of Adarlan in bed again.

* * *

  
Manon strode into the banquet hall preparing for the worst. But no one seemed to mind she was late, nor care, especially as the entire Terrasen court looked…

awful. Except for the newlyweds, they seemed content as they whispered sweet nothings to one another. Aelin looked to be nursing a headache, and Rowan didn’t look too pleased, sitting next to her. Lysandra and Aedion looked sleepy, as though they hadn’t slept at all, and the two remaining fae went out of their way to ignore her as she served herself from the breakfast banquet sprawled on the large table.

  
“Wait, where is His Magnanimous Holiness? I hope you left something of him, Blackbeak.” Aelin called to her from across the table, perhaps noticing that Dorian hadn’t join for breakfast yet.

  
Manon shrugged before using an iron nail to poke a slice of apple and bring it to her mouth. Fenrys chuckled, seeing the act for what it meant.

  
Dorian walked in then, scratching the back of his head as a palace steward led him to the banquet hall.

  
“Oh, good. You live.” Aelin exclaimed with fake joy at seeing the baffled king.

  
“Apologies for my delay…I couldn’t find my shirt.” He gave Manon a pointed look. “And then I couldn’t find my room, to get a new shirt…and then I couldn’t find the breakfast hall.” He finished explaining as he sat next to Manon. She smirked, and resisted the urge to look down at the shirt she was wearing.

  
“He does have pretty clothes. So delicate and dainty.” Aelin mussed as though not blaming her for stealing his shirt. Manon couldn’t help smirking, especially as the dark haired fae from the night before glanced her way.

  
Oh no, Manon wouldn’t be tiring of her king just yet. And the look she gave him said so loud and clear.

* * *

  
Dorian insisted in walking her to the upper balconies to where Abraxos waited for her. She had offered to fly him back to Rifthold, feeling stupid about it the moment she said it, but he’d refused, needing to finish up some business with Aelin before leaving. He then proceeded to try to convince her to stay one more night. Tempting, but Manon needed to get home.

  
“I will see you in two weeks, then.” He confirmed as he stepped right up to her, his hands bracing her sides. Was he going to kiss her goodbye?

  
Manon frowned, not sure how she felt about it. He seemed to read her unease and released his hands from her waist.

  
“I forget sometimes.” He said softly, and something in her chest squeezed as his tone and the look in his eyes. Manon rolled her eyes in pretend annoyance as she closed the distance between them and grazed her lips over his. He smirked and used the opportunity to hold the back of her neck with his hand and kiss her properly, deeply…promisingly.

  
Manon hated that her heart sped up just then, and that she truly was looking forward to two weeks from now. She hated it, but at the same time…  
“This…thing…between us. It can only end badly.” She mused as she turned back to Abraxos with the intention of mounting him. Her saddle bag was already buckled in place, and there really wasn’t anything else keeping her in Perranth any longer.

  
“It will definitely end badly. Just not in the way you think.” Dorian’s lips had curled into a grin as he took a step back to lean against the ledge of the balcony. Manon lifted a brow, not sure she understood what he meant.

  
“I’ll see you in two weeks, Majesty.” He said in goodbye. Manon nodded once before calling to Abraxos to fly. He did so with a mighty boom of his wings before crying out in goodbye to the King of Adarlan.

  
All the while she flew away towards her Kingdom, Manon couldn’t resist her own grin and the anticipation of what would come in two weeks.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Manorian is my favorite :)


End file.
